


Feel Alive

by Ratboy_Writes



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chansaw, F/F, Slow Burn, accidental necromancy, ill change it eventually leave me alone, ill tag things as i go, its poly heathers now, ive changed my mind, thats gotta be the funniest thing i’ve ever tagged something i’ve writen, yes i KNOW the title sounds like a bad twilight fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21762409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratboy_Writes/pseuds/Ratboy_Writes
Summary: Veronica tries to summon Heather’s ghost back to apologize for accidentally murdering her. Things don’t go as planned.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Heather Duke/Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Duke/Veronica Sawyer, Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 25
Kudos: 203





	1. Chapter One

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept soundly without nightmares. Every time I closed my eyes it was some new hellishly creative way my brain came up with to torture me. Sometimes it was my batshit crazy ex boyfriend breaking in again to finish what he started. Sometimes it was Kurt and Ram, the two former star football players of Westerburg High, bloody and asking “why? why did you kill us?”. But mostly it was the face of my late frenemy, Heather Chandler, mocking me. 

“You killed me and then couldn’t stomach the guilt? Tch, typical. You’ve always been a goddamn pillowcase.” I had spent more hours than I could count laying awake, too scared to fall asleep. Which brings us to now, with me standing in a graveyard in the pitch black darkness, in front of a pink granite headstone that reads ‘Heather E Chandler’. My stomach twists with a mix of guilt and sadness. We may have fought often, but I never wanted her _dead_. She wasn’t always awful, outside of parties and school, sometimes she really was just a normal high school kid. And I’d never say it out loud but I really did miss the few moments of genuine friendship we’d had. I pull a large, beat up, leather bound book out of my bag and flip open to the bookmarked page. The whole thing was in latin, but Heather Macnamara(god knows where she had found the damn thing) had helped me translate it. The translation, of course, was rough and flawed, but from what we gathered it was a simple spell to summon someone’s ghost back for an hour. Obviously I had low expectations on whether or not this would work, but it was worth a shot if it meant getting any kind of closure. I take a deep breath and start to read from the page. The temperature immediately drops at least 10°, and I can see my breath as I read. I shake off the little bit of fear gathering in the pit of my stomach and continue the spell. The air has gotten painfully cold, and my hands are  glowing  now, shaking as I turn the page. The moment I read the last words, the ground shakes violently, tossing me to the ground. The soft earth at the base of the headstone begins to split, and  a hand reaches up. I can’t even scream, I’m too frozen in terror, because that does _not_ look like a ghost. The crack in the ground grows wider, and slowly an arm emerges, followed by a head and shoulders, until an entire body climbs out and falls at my feet. The body raises its head and I’m staring into the cool grey eyes of Heather Chandler. 

“Veronica?” Her voice is hoarse, and before I can reply she pitches forward and coughs up a mouthful of nasty blue sludge. All over my boots. It takes all of my self control and a few deep breaths to not vomit too, but I lean forward and press my fingers to the side of her neck. Her skin is cool and clammy, but underneath my fingers is a faint pulse. She’s _alive_ .


	2. Chapter Two

The doctor looks over at Heather, stares at his notes, then back up at me.

“This is medically impossible,” he says flatly.

“Yeah but here we are,” I reply. “Is she okay?” The doctor rubs his face and sighs heavily.

“There isn't anything I can do beyond check her vitals and make sure she didn’t suffer any long term brain damage, we don’t see zombies every day you know.”

“I’m not a zombie!” Heather snaps, sitting up. “Besides, it’s not like I asked to die.” The doctor raises his eyebrows.

“You... killed yourself though, correct?”

“I _what?_ Why would I-” Heather starts. I step forward, cutting her off.

“Can you excuse us a moment? I think maybe her memory is spotty.” When the doctor leaves, Heather grabs my shirt collar and tugs me forward.

“You better start fucking explaining what the hell is going on,” she hisses through clenched teeth. “You and I _both_ know I didn’t kill myself.”I peel her fingers off of my blouse, grimacing at the dirt she’s left behind.

“It’s...a long story.” I sit down and begin to explain how originally, the night after the party I was just going to apologize and maybe spit in her drink, but JD had switched a cup full of Drain-o with her prairie oyster. “We framed your death as a suicide, y’know, to avoid, uh, going to prison, but JD thought that everything that happened after your death was good and the fucking psycho decided to play god.” Heather’s eyes narrow as I explain what happened with Kurt and Ram, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Good fucking riddance,” she grumbles when I tell her about JD’s death. She’s quiet for a long moment, and the only sound in the room is the ticking of the clock. Finally, she sighs and shakes her head. “So since I very clearly died, why am I back up and about 3 months later?” I hesitate, my face turning slightly red. _I missed you_ , a voice in my head says.

“I...just wanted to apologize I guess... I hadn’t planned on bringing you back to life. I was just going to summon your ghost or something.” Heather looks at me in disbelief.

“So let me get this straight, you murdered me ‘by accident’, felt guilty, fucked around with magic to try and apologize to my ghost, but ended up bringing me entirely back to life instead?” Before I can defend myself, she starts to laugh. It’s hoarse and strange sounding, but genuine. “You’re fucking stupid, Sawyer. But....it’s kind of nice not being dead.” She gives me a small half smile, but it fades quickly and she pulls herself out of bed.

“What are you doing? Heather the doctors still haven’t checked you over,” I say. She rolls her eyes. “But then they’re going to call my parents and I personally don’t want to see them right now.” My face drops at her words. Heather and her parents have never gotten along, it’s one of the few things she’s opened up to me about, but I’m still not sure how she’s going to handle what I have to say next.

"I… Heather… after your funeral your parents moved out of Sherwood. I guess they didn’t want to stay where their daughter had died.” She barks out a bitter laugh and shakes her head.

“Veronica, they didn’t give a _shit_ about me, they were probably just glad to have their last tie to this stupid town gone. They’ve wanted to leave for years and this was the perfect opportunity,” she grumbles. She takes a deep breath and turns away from me. “I still don’t want to stay here, I can just crash with you for now I guess.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, and I _do_ kind of owe her for murdering her.

“Fine, but we have to get you a hospital gown so you don’t look like you were dragged through a swamp.” After a few minutes of wandering around through the halls, I manage to find a closet with extra gowns, and I bring one back to Heather. I also grab a wheelchair for good measure. “Okay, put this on, sit down, and let’s get out of here.” Smuggling Heather out of the hospital proves to be a lot easier than I expected, the receptionist waves at us as I push her out. When we get to my car I dump the wheelchair in the trunk while Heather climbs into the passenger seat. The ride to my house is silent, and I know better than to try and start up a conversation. When we arrive, I can hear my mom shuffling around the kitchen. "Mom! Heather's gonna spend some time with us!" I yell. 

"That's fine sweetie!" She yells back. I gesture for Heather to stay quiet and lead her towards my room, but my mom enters the living room before we get there. "Mac, honey, would you like-" she stops abruptly as her eyes land on Heather, and the plate of scones she's holding crashes to the floor. 

"Um. Hello Mrs. Sawyer," Heather says awkwardly. My mother turns on her heel and walks back into the kitchen without another word. I debate going to talk to my mom, but decide that we can take care of that later. 

"Anyways... uh, make yourself at home I guess," I say, opening my bedroom door. I watch as Heather runs her hands over the sheets slowly, as though savoring the softness of it. She drifts around the room, running her hands over things and digging her toes into the plush carpet with the most genuine smile I've seen from her yet. Finally, lays down across the carpet and sighs. 

"This beats being dead by a lot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops it took me way too long to write this, the end of semester is always insanely busy. hopefully i'll get more consistent about this.


	3. Chapter Three

By the time I’ve gotten Heather settled and myself ready for bed, it’s close to 11. It’s been a bizarre several hours and when I drop into my bed, I’m out before my head even hits the pillow. For the first time in a little over three months, I sleep without nightmares. So when I wake up suddenly at 3 am, it takes me a moment to realize why. Heather’s bright grey eyes are staring into my own from the edge of my bed.

“Scoot over,” she whispers.

“Jesus _shit_ Heather!” I hiss, sitting bolt upright in surprise. “Just poke me next time instead of staring at me.” I rest my head against the headboard of my bed and look over at her. She rolls her eyes.

“Scoot _over_!” She says again. “I’m cold and you have the weighted blanket.” I’m about to argue because it’s 3 in the morning and I’m exhausted, but the light from the moon catches her eyes, and I notice it looks like she’s been crying. 

“I- fine. Just try not to hog the blanket,” I say finally. I shift over and she climbs in beside me, pulling the blanket up to her chin and sighing.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, already starting to drift back into unconsciousness. I stare over at her for a few moments longer, wondering why she was crying, or what woke her up in the first place, but my brain is too tired to string together more than a few thoughts. I turn over on my side and drift back to sleep. 

I wake up again to the sound of my alarm and sigh heavily. Exhaustion seems to weigh me down as I sit up and turn it off. Thankfully, Heather doesn’t stir as I climb out of bed to get ready for school. In fact, she doesn’t wake up until a good 20 minutes later, after I’ve showered and gotten dressed. She yawns and rubs her eyes.

“Where’re you off to at this hour?” She mumbles.

“Uh? Heather I’ve got school.” I feel anxiety twist in my gut at the thought of leaving her here alone for some reason. _She’s capable of taking care of herself,_ I remind myself. “My parents have already left for work and won’t be back until 6, so you’ve got free reign of the house.” I reach for the large spellbook on my dresser.

“What do you need that for?” She asks. There’s a note of panic to her voice, almost like she’s worried I’m going to-

“I’m not sending you back to the grave!” I clarify quickly. The tension drains out of her shoulders immediately. “I do need to figure out what I did though. Heather- Macnamara, I mean- translated the spell for me and-” Heather cuts me off with a loud laugh.

“You let _Mac_ translate it for you? I’m gonna guess she didn’t tell you she took Latin 1 before dropping out to take German,” she giggles. I groan loudly. 

“Of course she didn’t tell me that.”

“If you wanted an accurate translation you should’ve gone to Duke. She won’t admit it but she’s a total nerd.” The fond smile on Heather’s face as she says this takes me by surprise. Duke and Chandler argued a lot, and there were times that I wondered if the animosity was genuine. I sigh.

“I guess I’ll go see her during second period, since she has it free.” In all honesty, after everything that happened earlier this year, Duke and I aren’t exactly friends, but she’s the only one who will translate some weird old book without too many questions. Time to suck it up and hope it doesn’t end up too awkward. When I get to school, I immediately run into Mac and pull her aside into the out of order bathroom.

“How did the spell go?” She asks hesitantly, seeing my facial expression. I laugh nervously.

“Well… it worked… but a little too well.” Heather blinks. 

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“It means Heather Chandler is sitting on my couch at home, very much alive,” I wheeze, the full weight of the situation finally settling in. I lean back against the counter. “I think you definitely got the translation wrong because she’s like. Not a ghost that only stuck around for an hour and now I have to go find Duke to get her to translate it properly because I’m honestly a little worried it might have weird consequences. People aren’t supposed to come back from the dead! What if it’s temporary and she dies _again_? I don’t think I could handle that. Oh god what if-”

“Veronica.” Mac cuts off my awkward worried rambling before I can send myself into a proper panic attack. She takes a deep breath, clearly taking time to process what I’ve told her. “Before we start freaking out, let’s just go and see Duke so we have more answers and less to worry about.” I nod and follow her out of the bathroom. My plan to bother her second period is tossed aside in favor of getting answers quickly. We find Duke in the library at a table tucked in the back. Since Chandler’s death, her wardrobe has changed from green to white with red accents. _The color suits her_ , I think idly. She looks up as we approach and raises her eyebrows.

“Oh? What do _you_ two want?” she asks incredulously. I sigh and sit down across from her, Mac doing the same. 

“I need... your help,” I grit out. I already know she’ll have something to say about this. 

“ _You_ ? Need _my_ help?” She laughs. “You made it pretty clear that we aren’t friends. Why not go find one of your loser buddies?” I pull out the spellbook and drop it on the table.

“Because I know you’re smart, and you enjoy a challenge,” I say simply. I flip open to the bookmarked spell and push it towards her, and she leans forward, clearly intrigued. 

“...Fine, but, you have to tell me what this is for.”

“What? Why?” She rolls her eyes at me.

“Because there’s _always_ something weird going on with you, Sawyer. Weird, but entertaining. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but things have been really quiet lately.” I look over at Mac, then back at Duke. I already know how stubborn she is, there’s no way I’d be able to talk her out of this.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t think you’ll believe me if I tell you. But Mac messed up the translation to this -”

“I _told_ you it was a rough translation,” Mac chimes in.

“And it had some… weird results.” Duke narrows her eyes at me and sighs, before staring down at the page. She’s silent for a little while before looking back up at us in disbelief. 

“This is a spellbook,” she says flatly. “Written in Latin, and you’re saying Mac mistranslated this spell, which, I might add, is a _necromancy spell_ , and you say it had _weird results_ . What the _fuck_ did you do Veronica?” I chuckle nervously.

“Funny story actually, I wasn’t _planning_ on bringing anyone back to life. The translation Mac gave me said the spell brought back someone’s _ghost_ for a short period of time. And now I _may or may not_ have brought Heather Chandler back from the dead. And she might be at my house. And we need you to give us a real translation just in case there’s some weird magical side effects like Heather becoming a hostile zombie.” I give Duke a wobbly smile, ignoring the anxiety rising in my chest. I can’t explain why, but my mind immediately jumps to the worst possible scenario where Duke reverses the spell and Heather dies for a second time. Actually, despite knowing she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself, a part of me is still worried about how she’s doing on her own. Duke stares at me, then at Mac, and then drops her head into her hands with a groan. 

“You get yourself into the weirdest shit Sawyer.” She rubs her face and stares back down at the book. “I don’t even know what I was expecting, but _god_ this was _not_ it at all.” She’s quiet again while she finishes translating the rest of the page, occasionally scribbling notes on a sticky note. Duke closes the book and pockets the sticky note. “There’s a lot to unpack here and honestly? I don’t want to go to math. Write us an excused leave note, we’re going back to your house.” 

Ten minutes later, I’m pulling into my driveway with Duke riding shotgun and Mac behind her.

“It’ll be nice to see Heather again,” she says. Duke doesn’t acknowledge her comment and climbs out of the car the moment we’re parked. I unlock the door and step inside.

“Heather I’m back early! And I brought guests!” I yell. The sound of the TV in the living room pauses and Heather wanders into the kitchen. Wearing my bathrobe. Good to see she took my comment 'make yourself at home' seriously. Her eyes fall on Duke and Mac, and several different emotions fly across her face before settling on surprise, but before she can say anything, Duke steps forward and gives her a shove.

“You fucking _asshole_ !” She shouts. “I can’t fucking believe you! You fucking _killed yourself_ with no fucking warning! You just fucking _left_ like it meant nothing!” Her voice breaks as she gestures at Mac. “Like _we_ meant nothing!” Chandler’s face falls, and for a moment I expect her to blame me, which would be fair. Guilt tears at my chest as I think about how Duke and Mac must’ve felt after Heather died. We didn’t exactly talk about it much. 

“Heather I…” she trails off and her eyes meet mine for a brief second, before she leans forward and pulls Duke into a hug. “I’m so sorry…” Duke’s shoulders tense and I almost expect her to pull away, but after a moment the tension leaves her in a rush and she sobs. Mac pushes past me, crying too, and throws her arms around the two other Heathers. When they break apart, I can’t bring myself to meet their eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao the coronavirus rlly do be out here closing my school n shit


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is literally just the heathers + veronica vibing tbh, i just like writing their dynamic when it's friendlier than what it is in canon

A little while later, the four of us are stretched out in my room. Mac and I sitting on the bed, Chandler resting in my beanbag in the corner, and Duke perched on my dresser holding the spellbook. It feels almost normal, like we’d just gotten back from the mall. I enjoy the familiarity for a bit longer before Chandler breaks the silence. 

“You guys never actually explained why you decided to skip the rest of school and come back here.” 

“I retranslated the spell, since Mac can’t read latin for shit-” Duke starts.

“I’m not _that_ bad!” Mac protests, but Heather ignores her and continues.

“I’m not entirely sure how she managed to mess up a translation so bad that she thought a necromancy spell was just for summoning ghosts, but I’m sure you’ll be glad to know there’s very few side effects.” Chandler sits up at the mention of side effects, and I feel a flash of fear in my own chest as well.

“What...kind of side effects..?” I ask hesitantly. Duke pulls out the sticky note from her pocket. 

“Well before you start panicking, the spell is pretty permanent. Heather’s not  _ immortal _ or anything but the spell won’t wear off. Unless of course, something happens to Veronica.” 

“Okay that’s ominous. Care to explain?” I ask.

“We get it Heather, you enjoy a good dramatic pause,” Chandler drawls. “Hurry up and spit it out.” Duke chuckles and sets the spellbook down. 

“Y’know how you can’t get something from nothing? Magic works like that too. All of the energy required for this spell comes from the caster, which in this case is Veronica, and that’s what helps reanimate a dead person without them just being...a flesh shell, I guess you could call it.”

“Ew,” Mac mumbles.

“Basically, Heather stays alive and healthy as long as Veronica is alive and healthy. The longer it’s around, the stronger that connection gets. So stay out of trouble.” She glares pointedly at me and then at Chandler, as if she already knows that we’re both incapable of staying out of trouble.

“Artificial soulmates,” Mac giggles, giving me a playful shove. I roll my eyes and push her back, giggling a little bit too. “Do you think you guys’ll be able to read each other’s thoughts?” 

“God I sure hope not,” Chandler and I reply immediately. The last thing I need is for  _ Heather Chandler _ to go rooting through my head, there’s some things I’m not ready for anyone to know. Though, honestly, I’m not really sure I want to know what she thinks about either. I lean back, laying my head in Mac’s lap. “You guys wanna stay over? We can ditch school tomorrow and find something better to do,” I suggest. It’s been months since Duke and I have talked, let alone hung out, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t missed our mall trips, and it’s not like Chandler has anything to do. Duke squints at me and sighs. 

“If you hadn’t brought our dead friend back to life I’d say no, but...I missed her so I guess I’ll stay,” she grumbles. “This is  _ just _ for Heather, by the way, I still think you’re kind of a loser Sawyer.”

“Didn’t you say you thought she was-” Mac starts, but a withering glare silences her.  _ Jesus, if looks could kill Duke would be a serial killer _ , I think to myself. I’m  _ very _ tempted to ask Mac to finish her sentence, but I don’t need Duke to kill me barely an hour into being almost friends again. 

“Alright Heather, keep your secrets, for now.” Chandler says grinning. I know that look well enough to know that Heather’s gonna get the information by the end of the night. “Hey V?”

I look over at her. “Hm?” Her grin widens.

“Are you gonna serve your guests a drink or what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO BAD AT UPDATING IM SUPER SORRY I'LL TRY TO DO BETTER 
> 
> But real talk the isolation w covid happening has really put a damper on my motivation but reading you guys' comments helps a lot :) thank u lots!

**Author's Note:**

> Updates are gonna be ALL over the place i’m so sorry. Feedback is much appreciated :)


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